


the jacket thief

by jilliancares



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 17:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14266377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilliancares/pseuds/jilliancares
Summary: It wasn't that Keith was a thief, it was that he'd accidentally ended up in the possession of Lance's jacket, and he didn't feel inclined to give it back.





	the jacket thief

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by @fandomsnbandomsaf on tumblr!! <3

It started as an accident.

They’d been on another regular diplomatic mission, one where Allura spoke sophisticated jargon and Shiro stood around looking intimidating and Lance complained about every little inconvenience in sight. It was supposed to be peaceful, obviously — that’s what diplomatic meetings _were_  — and so they were wearing their regular street clothes, the inhabitants of the planet assuring them that formal clothing was completely unnecessary.

Keith managed to convince everyone to take their bayards, at least, because paranoia wasn’t something he could easily ditch after having good reason for it for so long. And he’d tried to insist on wearing their paladin armor, but Allura had said that that would be an incredible insult to the people of Oridian, or something.

Anyway, they’d been down there in their regular old clothes, bayards stuffed in their pockets with no special hip-mag’s to keep them in place. Keith had ditched his jacket before leaving the castle, seeing as it was going to be warm on the planet (“60 degrees is not _warm_ , Keith, what the fuck,” Lance had said, exasperated) and it’d taken almost everything in him to not gloat when the aliens turned out to be traitorous, Galra-loyal aliens. Because having a bunch of traitorous, Galra-loyal aliens trying to kill you really wasn’t exactly best time for gloating to take place.

Keith had ended up on a balcony with Lance, somehow, who’d breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that he’d had his bayard with him. He’d been shooting down at the Oridians for barely a minute before he huffed in exasperation and ripped his jacket off, shoving it towards Keith with a hasty, “Don’t lose that.” His gun had kept catching on the sleeves, loose and light and nothing at all like the paladin armor they should’ve been wearing. And, well, it wasn’t like Keith wanted to hold Lance’s jacket all day — he’d had his own bayard out, slicing down any asshole who’d tried to come at them on their balcony — so he did the next, totally obvious thing. He’d put on Lance’s jacket.

Lance hadn’t realized this at first, though when he _had_  noticed, it’d made him do a double take, and he’d almost accidentally shot Pidge in the leg when he’d turn back to shooting at the ground level.

Anyway.

After that battle, they’d all been drained and exhausted and thoroughly-betrayed. Keith had gone straight to his room and collapsed in his bed, letting sleep drag him under the second his head hit the pillow.

And then he’d had Lance’s jacket. Like, it’d been an accident, for sure. He hadn’t intentionally worn it back to his bedroom and fallen asleep in it, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d _had Lance’s jacket_. And he couldn’t just give it back after that, okay? Like, he’d been battling in it the whole day before. And then he’d slept in it. By then, it was definitely all smelly and gross, so the next course of action was obviously for Keith to wash it, right? It was the polite thing to do.

This led to Keith washing it, which led to the jacket smelling really good, but also still somehow like Lance? And Keith had never really realized how much he liked the smell of Lance before, but it was pretty undeniable. Lance smelled heavenly.

And, well. That just led to Keith still not giving back Lance’s jacket. He chalked it up to forgetfulness, to being busy and distracted and never running into Lance at the right time, but eventually he _did_  just admit it to himself — he liked Lance’s jacket. He liked _wearing_  Lance’s jacket.

Because he did wear it. A lot. He wore it near constantly, actually, it was just that no one ever saw this. It was crazy comfortable, something that Keith didn’t think seemed very fair, especially not when he tried to wear his own jacket again for a change, which now just felt stiff and leathery and nothing at all like the wonderfulness that was Lance’s jacket.

So nowadays he just wore his t-shirt. Until he got back to his room, anyway, at which point he immediately put on Lance’s jacket, sleeves pulled past his fingers and hood thrown over his head.

And there was nothing wrong with this, okay? Lance had never asked for it back. Maybe he didn’t even know Keith still had it. Keith could’ve lost it during that battle, after all — he owed Lance nothing, didn’t _have_  to keep it safe for him, simply because Lance had thrown it at him and told him to.

And so Keith continued to live his life in peace. He fought Galra and defended the universe and ignored Lance’s questioning looks when they were in the same room together for too long, neither of them wearing jackets despite the fact that space was _cold_  and the metal walls really weren’t the best at keeping the castle nice and toasty. And then, at the end of the day, he wore Lance’s jacket and fell asleep and tried to convince himself that it wasn’t weird in the slightest.

What Keith never expected was to be _confronted_.

He’d just brushed his teeth and put away his paladin armor and done all the other little things that led up to him finally going to bed. He was wearing his pajamas — formerly just a pair of boxers but more recently a pair of boxers coupled with Lance’s jacket — when the door burst open. Except it didn’t really burst open, because all the doors on the castleship slid open with the same metallic precision, but Lance’s thunderous presence behind it obviously meant that, could he slam the door open, he would have.

And Keith was just standing there. Half naked with the stolen jacket hanging open over his torso, the hood pulled over his head. And Lance just gaped at him, and Keith flushed so hard it crept all the way from his chest to the tips of his ears.

“Oh,” Lance said, his angry posture deflating. “So… That’s where my jacket is.”

Keith was frozen, embarrassment icy and thick in his veins, his entire brain demanding for him to _do something_.

“Um,” he said intelligently, before he was tearing the jacket off and shoving it against Lance’s chest and pushing him out of the room. “Hereyougosorry,” he said, lighting quick, and he hit the button that closed the door between him and Lance.

It slid right back open.

“Wait!” Lance said, and he was holding the jacket out, not all bundled up like Keith had had it when he’d shoved it at Lance. “Um. Keep it.”

“What?”

“It looks better on you, anyway,” Lance said, his cheeks glowing pink, and Keith’s arms moved without his brain’s consent. He was slipping back into the jacket and shoving his hands into the pockets in an attempt to stop their shaking.

“Thanks,” Keith managed, and Lance was smiling now, a goofy grin making its way across his face. He reached out and grabbed the sides of the hood, pulling it back over Keith’s head. And then, with his hands already so close to Keith’s face, he cupped his cheeks, his thumbs grazing over Keith’s cheekbones.

Surely, he could feel how hot Keith’s face was. Could feel how much he was blushing, as if seeing it wasn’t bad enough.

But then, Lance apparently decided to stop seeing it, because he closed his eyes and leaned forward and —

Oh.

Keith reached up for Lance’s shirt, gripping the fabric between his fingers as Lance kissed him, knocking his hood right back off again so he could instead thread his fingers into his hair.

“God,” Lance said against his lips, his eyes fluttering open to look at him. “You don’t even want to know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“You don’t want to know how long it’s been since I’ve worn my own jacket,” Keith muttered in response, and Lance laughed, his head falling onto Keith’s shoulder as his body shook with his amusement.

And, well, Keith started wearing his own jacket again, after that. Though only because Lance insisted it was his now, and Keith couldn’t exactly say he was opposed to this.


End file.
